Painting a Masterpiece
by catlover5040
Summary: She had always been close to Carlton. They had been through so much together, learned so much together that they were practically inseparable. Some memories were so strong that even looking at a photo could make her tear up, whereas there were times she would rather forget about. But to her, every memory was a stroke on a canvas, and they were painting a masterpiece. 100 themes!
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. This is a 100 themes, and the list was on DeviantART(but I'm not doing them in order).  
**

**Lengthy A/N: Some of these chapters(namely: This one, "Unbreakable", "Making History" and "Gateway") were from my previous now non-existent 100 Themes(Pennies in the Fountain). I deleted it because I kept drifting towards Lassiet(wonder why that is? *coughcoughLOAFERcoughcough*), since that's what I do best, and there were some really bad attempts at Shules in there. So, here you have this brand new thing with a few chapters from my old one, and though not all of them will be romantic Lassiet(or Lassiet at all for that matter), they'll certainly be Lassie/Jules centric.**

**See? Told you it was lengthy.**

**Here goes nothin'. FOR NARNIA!**

* * *

Juliet O'Hara took a deep breath and smiled as she looked up at the police department. _This is going to be new and exciting, _she told herself. _I'm a detective now, working all the way on the other side of the country. And I'll get to meet my new partner._

She clutched the handle of her briefcase, locked her car over her shoulder, and started up the steps. As she approached the door, a young man with black hair opened the door for him.

"Thanks," she said graciously as she stepped in and held out her hand. "Juliet O'Hara."

"Oh, you're the new junior detective, right?" he said excitedly, shaking her hand vigorously. "Yeah, I heard that you would be arriving today. I'm Buzz McNab, by the way. So, you'll be working with Detective Lassiter?"

"Yes," she responded. She had been hoping this subject would come up with one of her other new co-workers before she actually met her partner. "What's he like?"

Buzz hesitated. "Well... he's not a bad person," he amended quickly. "He's a really good detective, he solves lots of cases."

He was trying to avoid directly describing Lassiter's personality. _Not a good sign, _Juliet decided. "That's not what I asked," she said, trying to keep her tone light.

The cop seemed to get the message. "Well, he's a stickler for protocol," he said. "He thinks I'm too young to even be a cop, so I'm not sure what his reception to you will be. But," he added brightly, "I'm sure, being partners, he'll warm up to you... eventually."

She smiled at him and tightened her grasp on the briefcase handle. "Well, thanks," she said cheerfully. He nodded and smiled stupidly. She was beginning to get an idea of what Detective Lassiter was like.

"Wait," he called suddenly, as she turned around, stopping her in her tracks. "There's, uh, there's something you should know."

"What?" she asked, turning around with a rising sense of dread.

"He, er..." Buzz squirmed uncomfortably. "He really, really liked his last partner, if you know what I mean. He was ranting about it in the parking lot a few days ago and, well, he's not happy to have a new partner."

"Right," she said, biting her lip. "Well, it was nice meeting you."

Forcing herself to be optimistic, she slowly turned around and walked towards the

Chief's office.

The Chief, a middle-aged woman with short, dark-blonde hair, was sitting behind her desk talking to a young man wearing a polo shirt and jeans. Juliet couldn't see his face, but she couldn't help thinking that he had nice hair. He was obviously not a cop; she could tell from his casual posture and his clothes that he had not been formally trained.

"...and I will _tell _you, Mr. Spencer, when I have another case for you," the Chief was saying irately. "In the meantime, stop badgering me and get to work on the high school computer theft or I _will _fire you."

"Yes, Chief," the young man said, not sounding remotely abashed.

"And I want you to stay out of our way and for goodness' sakes, stop decorating Detective Lassiter's desk with red and gold crepe paper."

"What about green and blue?" he asked without skipping a beat.

The Chief glared at him, completely unamused. "_No."_

She felt slightly guilty, eavesdropping on their conversation, so she cleared her throat loudly. The Chief looked startled and the young man called Spencer turned around and looked at me. He flashed a charming, immature, schoolboy-esque smile at her. "Shawn Spencer, Head Detective."

Juliet stared at him. For a second, she thought that maybe her instincts were wrong and he _was _a cop, but Chief Vick's annoyed facial expression said it all.

"_Out, _Mr. Spencer," she snapped. "_Now."_

"Yes, Chief," he said obligingly, and excited the room, but not before flashing another smile at Juliet. The Chief looked at her and attempted to smile.

"Detective O'Hara," she said, reaching out her hand for the younger detective to shake. "As you probably know, I'm the interim chief."

"Pleasure to meet you," Juliet said cheerfully as she shook the Chief's hand. She glanced towards the door where the young man had exited. "Is he really-"

"Head Detective?" she smirked slightly. "Not before, not now, and over my dead body. He's a new consultant who's worked a couple of cases for us. His methods are a little unprofessional, and that's to say the least."

"Is Detective Lassiter on his way?" Juliet asked, fingering her detective's badge.

"Yes, he's on his way back from an arrest," Chief Vick said absently. "Now, listen, Detective, I have a word of advice for you." Juliet straightened up.

"Stay in the backseat for now. Detective Lassiter is a little..." she paused, searching for the right word. "Well, let's just say he's not impressed by your age. He thinks you're too young to be a detective."

Juliet nodded, biting her lip.

The Chief opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment the door swung open and a man, presumably Detective Lassiter, entered the room. He narrowed his eyes when he saw his new partner. Juliet clenched her fingers around the briefcase handle so tightly her knuckles went white.

"Carlton Lassiter," he said, holding out his hand, but with his eyes still narrowed as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of the young woman in front of him.

"Juliet... O'Hara," she said slowly, shaking his hand. She felt her heart rise into her throat as he stared back at her with intense blue eyes.

"Detectives?" the Chief said. "Shouldn't you... be going?"

"Yeah," Lassiter and Juliet said automatically. They both turned towards the door and he opened it for her.

"As my new partner, there's a few rules you should know about," he said in a lazily mechanic voice. "No whining. No crying. No puking at crime scenes. You're a detective; you practically signed up to see dead bodies so I don't want to see you reacting badly. No crying-"

"You said that already," she interrupted.

"That's because it's important. No crying. This is a police station, not daycare, okay? You're still practically a little girl, but-"

"I'm not a little girl," she said quietly, feeling her face heat up.

"How old are you?" he looked at her skeptically.

"Twenty-four."

"I rest my case. You're barely out of college. You're still a little girl."

"I'm not," she said softly, her eyes stinging with humiliation. _Stop it,_ she told yourself. "I'm a detective."

"I know that. You better act like one- are you crying?"

"No." She turned away, wiping her eyes hastily.

"Good," he said, still half-glaring at her disapprovingly. "Get to work."

She walked away, feeling his gaze on her. Her face turned red and she swiped at the tiniest of remaining tears in the corners of her eyes.

He was right. This was what she signed up for.

She was a detective.

Now it was time to act like one.


	2. Making History

******Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. This is a 100 themes, and the list was on DeviantART.**

* * *

"For their extraordinary work in recent cases, we would like to present the key of the city to Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara," the mayor announced. There was thunderous applause as Juliet O'Hara ran up to the stand, positively beaming, and of course dragging her hesitant partner behind her.

"Is there anything you would like to say, Detectives?" the mayor asked, stepping aside so Juliet could speak into the microphone.

"Well, we couldn't have done it without each other," Juliet gushed, flashing a beatific smile out at the crowd. "Months of hard work have gone into these cases. Our workload has increased significantly within the last few weeks, and neither of us have really gotten any sleep, as we've been on stakeouts all night, every night- and, well, I don't think I would've been able to keep going without him. Carlton?" She looked up at her partner innocently and excitedly.

"Er-" he looked out at the crowd awkwardly. "Yeah, what she said. I couldn't have done it without you, O'Hara."

There was more applause as the key to Santa Barbara, a silver, ornamental key that was about four inches long, was handed to the two detectives in all the glory of its black, velvet display box. Juliet, who was overflowing with pride, linked her arm through her partner's as they walked down the steps and towards the back of the room where they had been sitting previously,

Juliet could've sworn she heard Henry Spencer whisper "I'm so proud of you" in her ear as she passed by his seat. She smiled to herself at this thought and looked up at Carlton again.

"Carlton?" she said quietly.

"Mm?" he murmured.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong?"

"You don't look... happy."

"Dang, O'Hara," he scoffed. "Do I ever look happy to you?"

"No, but you _should _be. I mean, we just received such a high honor!"  
'It's all decorative, O'Hara. It means nothing."

"Don't say that," she said, looking put-down and hurt. "It _is _an honor. The mayor respects us enough to give us the key. We deserve it!"

"Yeah, well, it was mostly you," he said modestly.

"Don't say that," she said, slapping him affectionately. "I couldn't have done any of that without you."

He didn't respond. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they resumed the walk back to their seats.

"Give yourself a little more credit once in a while," she whispered as they sat back down, slipping her arm around his neck. "Enjoy these things as they come."

"I told you, you did it all," he responded automatically, but when she looked up at him, he was _almost- _just _almost _-smiling.

An hour later, they were at a beachside restaurant with the Chief, Henry, Shawn, Gus, McNab, and almost the entire Santa Barbara Police Department. Juliet and Carlton were both in the spotlight, what with that little golden key they had. People- mostly younger officers who could only _dream _about receiving the key to the city -kept asking them how they had done it. Carlton responded, "Twenty-four years of hard work and dedication." Juliet answered, "Hard work and my partner."

To Juliet's exasperation, her partner still seemed somewhat on edge all throughout the celebration.

"Excuse us," she said to Shawn, with whom she was currently talking, and escorted her partner out of the restaurant.

"Where are we going, O'Hara?" Carlton asked, although he already knew the answer.

"I don't know," she answered, walking past her car and onto the boardwalk. "Follow me." He obeyed.

The wind ruffled her hair as she took his hand and led him off the boardwalk and onto the beach. She kicked off her beaded sandals by a bench, threw her Prada purse down next to it, and ran down towards the ocean. He followed her awkwardly.

She stood at the very edge of the water, with the waves just lapping over her feet. She looked at him, her eyes shining.

"O'Hara, what are you doing?" he asked with confusion in his voice.

"Well, I thought we should do something to remember today," she said, positively beaming now, clutching the little black box that held the key. "Not to remember receiving the key to the city," she added when he opened his mouth. "Not specifically, anyway. No, I mean to remember the day our hard work came to something recognizable. To celebration. To happiness."

He stared at her, not daring to speak. She opened the box and removed the key. She then proceeded to take off the fancy necklace she was wearing, sliding the charm off the golden chain and slipping the chain through one of the holes in the key.

"We'll take turns wearing it," she said, fastening it around his neck before he could protest. "Today's your day. Tomorrow, you'll give it to me and I'll wear it. You see where I'm going?"

He nodded dazedly.

"That way," she continued, "we can remember today. And if one of us dies on the job, say, me, and I'm wearing the key, I'll wear the remembrance of this day to the grave." She beamed and kissed him on the cheek.

"O'Hara!" he exclaimed, pulling away in alarm. "What was that for?"

"What was what for?" she asked innocently.

He surveyed her- her pink cheeks, her wavy golden hair, her beatific, blissful smile. He stepped towards her, not caring that he was now in the range of the waves and getting his shoes wet. She threw her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. He held her tightly, closing his eyes.

There they stood, the sea spray splashing them gently and the wind lifting her hair, lifting their hearts. They were both two slightly odd people who didn't exactly fit in with the rest of the world, who people who were so impossibly proud of themselves, proud of each other.

They were two people who were, together, making history.


	3. Unbreakable

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. The 100 Themes list is from DeviantART.**

* * *

Juliet rocked back and forth on the edge of the chair, her mouth open in a silent sob. The only sound was her partner's slow, dangerous breathing and the _beep-beep-beep_-ing of hospital machines. She was an idiot. She should've never left her house that morning. She should've never been born.

This was all her fault.

She glanced over at her partner through tear-filled eyes. He was breathing slowly, but on the left side of his face was a scar. A long, terrible scar from his forehead to the bottom of his chin. Even worse were his legs- a horrible, tangled mess in a mass of bandages. The doctors said he would probably never walk again.

He would have to quit the force. He would never be able to do the things he liked, to live his life ever again. He might even die.

And it was all Juliet's fault. The girl he had trusted with his life had finally damaged it for good.

_It wasn't really your fault, _she told herself. _You didn't see his car coming. It wasn't your fault the road was icy._

It was a car crash. She was driving down the roads, minding her own business, when something went wrong and his car came careening at hers. _A tragic accident,_ the Santa Barbara Highway Patrol had insisted. Either of them could've gotten hurt.

That was the worst part. _She _should've been mortally wounded, _she _should've been lying, bloody and mangled, in the middle of the road amongst all the rubbage of her car, while her partner slowly realized what he had done with a horrible sort of certainty. She should've been lying there, crippled and crying out in pain, while her partner cradled her head, crying just as hard himself, telling her that everything was going to be okay even though _nothing _was going to be okay.

_She _should be lying helplessly there in the hospital bed. _She _should be confined to bed for life, and Carlton should be sitting in the same chair she was sitting in, distraught and anguished, but perfectly healthy, perfectly fine.

She should be the one on her deathbed. She had nothing important to accomplish. He saved lives every day. She, on the other hand, was a rookie who had too much to learn and never did anything of significance.

"Carlton, I'm so, so sorry," she whispered, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes and running down her face. She leaned forward and kissed him gingerly.

"If you die, I swear I'll kill myself," she promised, holding his hand in both of hers. "I'll never, ever laugh at you again. I'll always do as you say. I'd give up my life and my future just to make sure you'd be alright!" she sobbed, leaning forward and laying her head on his chest.

She kept sobbing, her head pressed closely to his chest. Now the only sound was the sound of his heartbeat, ringing through her ears.

_At least his heart hasn't stopped yet, _she thought bitterly. _Everything else has. Including _my _heart. _

She hated to admit it, but she wouldn't be able to survive in this cruel world without him. She had learned almost everything she knew from him, and it was his wise help and guidance that kept her from making a complete fool of herself every day.

"Don't leave me, Carlton," she whispered, clutching his hands and pulling herself away from him. "I need you too much."

She stared at the wall steadily, trying to control herself. Every time she closed her eyes, she went back to the night Yin hung her off that clocktower. Strangely, it wasn't the memory of being hung off the clocktower, specifically, that was haunting her now- in this memory, she was on the clocktower, her feet firmly on the ground. She was all alone- unfortunate and fragile -and then around the corner came Carlton, ready to calm her, ready to comfort. Within seconds she dissolved into tears and he was just standing there, holding her, not yanking away and telling her to man up and be tough. He held her as she cried, hugging her and whispering to her and calming her.

He had always been there for her. He always tried to protect her. She couldn't protect him, and now she had nearly killed him. If he didn't survive, she would put herself behind bars forever, and that would be the end of Detective O'Hara.

"Carlton, I didn't mean to, I swear," she said as though her partner could hear her. "I promise I didn't mean to hit you... I'd never, ever do anything to harm you..."

He stirred. She gasped and grabbed his hand.

"O'Hara," he murmured, turning over in his sleep.

"I'm here," she whispered, but she knew he wouldn't respond. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as tears ran down her cheeks. She closed her eyes, and then that haunting memory of the clocktower came back so she opened them again, sitting up with a jerk, breathing quickly.

She had tried so hard not to do it, and now she had finally done it.

She had broken Carlton Lassiter, the seemingly unbreakable man.


	4. Gateway

**_A/N:_ Ah, here's the right one. I previously posted the wrong document for this chapter. HERE it is, and one of my favorite fanfics I've ever written, too. It's strange what my subconscious will dream up if I let it. This one has a hint of Shules, but for the most part it's about the strong friendship between L and J. Here we go!  
**

* * *

_Gunshots. Blood. Pain. _

_Darkness._

Juliet opened her eyes. She didn't know where she was. She was in a cool, beautiful green field filled with wildflowers.

She stood up, her legs wobbling. Walking felt weird. She looked around. There was a stream running through the field and a willow tree several yards away. About thirty feet away, there was a great tall iron gothic-style gate with a long iron fence running on either side of it.

"Where am I?" she murmured, taking a step towards the gate.

"You're dead," a voice said behind her. She whirled around and saw Carlton standing there with his arms half-raised.

"Carlton?" she whispered, and then threw herself at him, grabbing at his shirt, sobbing into his shoulder. Less than two years ago, he had died taking a bullet for her in the middle of a shoot-out.

"O'Hara, it's okay," he said gently, holding her at arm's length. "It's okay. I'm here."

"I'm so gl-glad to see you," she whispered, grabbing his arms to steady herself. "I've missed you so much. Life just isn't the same."

"How's Marlowe holding up?" he asked quietly, and her heart twinged when she saw the sadness in her eyes.

"Not good," Juliet admitted. "But, you know, life goes on."

There was an awkward pause and Juliet went on, wiping at her eyes. "Maisie's growing up so fast," she said, referring to Lassiter's young daughter. "She went to her first day of kindergarten yesterday and she already wants to be a cop when she grows up."

He smiled. "Well, I can't say I didn't see that coming."

She laughed, however shakily. "Yeah."

A minute passed, allowing Juliet to recover from the shock of seeing her beloved friend again and the situation slowly dawned on her.

"How is this possible?" she asked suddenly, as she realized exactly what was happening. "How are _you _possible? You- you died."

He shrugged. "I told you, you're dead." Her horror must've shown on her face, because he quickly corrected his words. "Not exactly. Not entirely, anyway."

"What do you mean, 'not entirely'?" She quoted back at him. "Either I'm dead or I'm not. How can I be 'not entirely' dead?"

"You haven't died _yet," _Carlton said, choosing his words carefully. "You're going to soon."

She gasped, pulling away in horror. "How can you just say that? I can't leave Shawn, I can't leave- well -my _life."_

"What about me?" He asked, looking a little hurt. "You'll have me."

"Yeah, but-" Juliet sighed in frustration. "What if this isn't real? What if it's just a dream that's coming from the trauma of my body trying to stay alive? What if you're not really here?"

"I'm _dead, _O'Hara," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course I'm 'here'. You're dying and I'm dead, so it only makes sense that we're together."

"Oh," she said quietly. She took a step towards the iron fence and gate and he followed slowly after her.

"What's behind there?" she asked, reaching to open the gate.

"Don't- open that," Carlton said in a constricted voice, grabbing her arm. "You can't make that decision, not yet. If you open that gate, there's no turning back."

Juliet arched one eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Before he could answer, though, she heard an all-too-familiar voice calling from the other side of the gate.

"Jules- don't leave me, baby! Wake up!"

With a shock, Juliet saw Shawn wandering on the other side of the gate. The misery in his face broke her heart.

"Shawn, I'm over here," she called, but he showed no sign of having heard her. Feeling a little panicked, she raised her voice. "Shawn- _Shawn!"_

"He can't hear you," a sad voice said behind her, and with a small jolt she remembered Carlton was there. She looked up at him and saw the dejected look on his face.

"He's not really here," he explained. "He's in the waking world, so to speak. He's over your body. He can't hear us or see us."

"Oh," Juliet whispered again, her voice shaking slightly. "So- what happens if I open the gate?"

He shrugged. "You go back to your world. You come back to life. If you stay here with me, wait a few more minutes, then you'll die. It's a matter of life and death, O'Hara."

"Isn't it all?" she asked bitterly, sitting down on the ground and putting her arms around her knees. He knelt down next to her, watching her pensively.

"Jules?" Shawn's panicked voice came from the other side of the gate. He fell to his knees and started to cry. "Jules, wake up!"

"So it's you or him," Juliet said quietly. "I have to choose."

Carlton nodded miserably. "It's me or him."

Juliet pondered this for a second, and then a thought occurred to her. "Carlton?"

"Yeah?"

"Didn't you have a choice, too?"

"What do you mean?"

She paused carefully. "Well, the same thing had to have happened to you, right? You probably had a gate, too. I'm sure you had a choice- wasn't Marlowe on the other side? Why didn't you go through the gate?" She was desperately rambling now, stalling for time. "Why didn't you choose to come back? What was different about your situation?

"I didn't get a choice," he said, his voice getting more bitter with each syllable. "I guess the universe- fate -doesn't like me as much as it likes you." He laughed ruefully. "I died instantly, O'Hara. I didn't _get _to choose between death and my loved ones. If I did, don't you think I would've come back for Marlowe, for Maisie- for _you?"_

She felt tears come to her eyes on this last word. "Would you have come back if Marlowe and Maisie were already dead?" she asked. "Would you have come back _just _for me?"

His shoulders slumped and he turned away. When he turned back, his eyes were watery but his voice was steady. "Yes. I would've come back for you."

"So- so-" her voice broke. "I guess I owe it to you to stay."

He sighed and put his arm around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and started to cry quietly.

"Juliet!" Shawn let out an anguished cry and started to sob. "Don't leave me, sweetheart! You're- you're-" Through the wrought iron bars, she watched him put his head in his hands. "You're all I've got," he whispered.

Juliet cried harder and buried her face in Lassiter's shirt.

Shawn's words were coming out in short breaths. "Please- please don't leave me- if you come back, I swear I'll protect you, I'll- I'll-" He threw himself onto the ground, sobbing openly into the grasp.

Juliet pulled herself from her partners grasp, on her feet, however wobbly that felt. He slowly rose, his face falling.

"I understand," he whispered as she opened her mouth. "Go to your boyfriend. He needs you."

She nodded and took a step towards the gate, and then whirled around and threw herself at him, her arms around his neck.

"Carlton, I'm so sorry," she whispered, rubbing his back soothingly. "I love you so much, just as much as I love Shawn. You were more than my partner. You were my best friend, my mentor, my confidant, my _father." _

He hugged her tight. "I love you too, Juliet O'Hara, just as I love my own beautiful wife and child. You're my best friend and you taught me just as much as I taught you, and right now is no exception. You _are _my confidant, my own daughter- heck, you're a part of me."

"I'll miss you," she whispered, rocking back and forth in his embrace.

"Well, I'll see you soon," he said, holding her out in front of him and smiling doggedly. "After all, it can't be more than- what is it? -forty-five years?"

"Give or take," she said, smiling ruefully.

"Juliet!" Shawn's anguished voice pierced the air one last time.

Carlton kissed the top of Juliet's head. "Go take care of him. I'll see you in forty-five years."

Head spinning, heart pounding, Juliet O'Hara took a step towards the gate. She slowly lifted the lock and pushed the creaking door open.

"Goodbye, Carlton," she whispered, and then raised her voice. "Goodbye, Carlton!"

"Goodbye, Juliet," he called back, smiling in a twisted sort of way. "Tell Maisie that Papa says hi."

Smiling, Juliet stepped through the gate and closed it behind her. Slowly, steadily, everything began to fade in front of her eyes...


End file.
